In Another Life
by totheendoftheworldortime79
Summary: Princess Emma of Misthaven wakes up imprisoned in a tower, with no memory of how she got there. Her only hope is for her husband, Captain Killian Jones, to find her. But what if he's not the man she knew? Only For One Night verse. One shot. CS CockOctoberfest!


**Author's note:** This is my contribution to CS Cocktoberfest! I debated a couple of different scenarios and ultimately chose this one. It takes place in the Only For One Night verse, but to explain anything beyond that would be a spoiler! I'll give you a hint though: think Season 4 finale. As far as the timeline in the OFON verse, this takes places sometime in the not so distant future. Lots of sexy times! Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** Not mine.

 **In Another Life**

The sound of wood scraping on stone roused her from her doze. Emma blinked, the smell of the disgusting gruel assaulting her nose. She fought back the gag that tried to claw its way up her throat; she didn't have any other choice. The gruel and stale bread were all she had. Regardless of how awful it smelled, her stomach demanded nourishment. With a groan, she crawled on her hands and knees over to the door. The chains that bound her wrists were just long enough for her to reach the bowl. She gathered it to her chest then backed away from the door as quickly as she could.

As she wolfed down her revolting meal, she wondered for the hundredth time just where she was. How long she'd been there. How she'd gotten there. She had no memories of being kidnapped or attacked in anyway. One day, she'd simply woken up in this tower. It had one window; she could see the sea. That sight was the only thing that comforted her. She'd tried everything she could think of to free herself, or at least, she thought she had. She had no magic, for some reason; she wondered if the cuffs that bound her, blocked her powers. Half the time she swore her mind was playing tricks on her. Sometimes she wondered if any of this was real. Days seemed to bleed together; time had no meaning.

She missed her husband. She missed her son. Killian _must_ be looking for her; he would never give up. He would be out of his mind with worry. Unless the Dark One…no, she couldn't think like that. Killian was out there, searching. She would see him again. She kept waiting for the _Jolly Roger_ to appear at her window, her pirate entering like an avenging angel.

If anyone could save her, it was Killian Jones.

* * *

"Faster, Jones!" Captain Blackbeard barked. "Before that bloody thing comes back!"

Killian nodded jerkily, dashing down the ladder as fast as he could. Privately, he thought this entire plan was mad, but as an indentured servant, he had no choice. Where Blackbeard led, he had to follow. Even if it got them all killed.

He ran to the water supply, pumping water into yet another bucket. If they weren't careful, they would be out of fresh water soon. Killian resumed his task, getting water to the crew, more to the overheated cannons. Bucket after bucket hung from his hook as he worked, his body drenched in sweat. An ominous cry sounded in the distance, making men around him shudder. How long until the dragon returned? Why did the captain persist in this insanity? They'd heard rumors in the last port about a treasure and a lost princess; Killian didn't believe a word of it. He'd heard too many such stories in his life. His only goal was to be as unobtrusive as possible and survive.

The island was closer now. Killian could see it, a solitary tower rising from the foliage. It looked like a very lonely place. It was also a good place for treasure, given that it was defended by a dragon.

Killian had never seen a dragon before; despite the crew's jokes, he was fairly certain none of them had either. It was terrifying. But he knew the price for shirking his duty. There was no place for terror here. He continued to dash about, following the captain's screamed orders, even as the dragon appeared once more on the horizon. Its great wings beat rhythmically; its huge maw widened, bright red flame shining in its throat. The gunners of the _Jolly Roger_ fired at it again and again; nothing seemed to hurt the beast. One pass set the sails alight; men tumbled from the rigging aflame. Horror and chaos were all around him; he desperately wanted to hide.

Blackbeard stood tall on the quarterdeck, cursing the monster, shaking his fist. A broadside hit the dragon in the flank; it screamed in pain. The men cheered. Those cheers turned to screams of death as another wave of flame crossed the deck. Killian ducked into a corner just in time, but a patch of his linen shirt caught. He screamed, frantically beating it. When the flames died, the deck suddenly pitched under him sending him sprawling. He struggled to rise, to climb out of his self-imposed prison. The deck was slippery with sweat and blood and sea water, but something inside him forced him to keep going.

That was a mistake.

There were flames everywhere. One last desperate shot of the _Jolly_ 's canons shattered the wing joint of the great dragon. It crashed into the sea, sending a great tidal wave toward the ship. There was no time to run, no time to flee. It crashed into the old ship, tilting it ninety degrees, sending everything and everyone into the sea.

* * *

This must be what death felt like. Killian woke up to bright light and sand on his tongue. He coughed, pain slicing up his side. He rolled onto his back, blinking up at sun. It looked real enough. His body hurt in ways he could never have imagined. Was he dead? He forced himself to sit up, scrubbing his hand over his face. Wet sand sloughed off; some got in his eyes. He blinked furiously, trying to soothe the irritation. Bloody hell. When he could finally take stock, he gasped in horror. The _Jolly Roger_ was a half blackened hulk, bobbing in shallow water some two hundred yards away. Beached? Caught on a sandbar? There didn't seem to be any other survivors; he was alone on the beach.

In spite of his lowly position, his heart twisted at seeing the old ship in such a state. For better or worse, it had been his home for some years. Longer than he could remember. Where was he? Killian rose, pain lanced up his side again. He looked down; his shirt was in ribbons along his left side. There was a long thin gash; it didn't look deep, but it was enough to make him uncomfortable. It would need to be cleaned before it got infected. He knew how dangerous wounds like that could be.

Miraculously, his hook was still in place. He half expected it to be gone, but the familiar weight steadied him. He looked up; he was on the island! The one that Blackbeard had sacrificed so much to reach was now open to him. Yet, treasure held no interest for him. All Killian wanted was some clean clothes, some food, and supplies to tend his wounds. The questions of how he would escape and where he would go could be answered later.

The sun beat down on him as he walked around the huge tower, looking for an entrance. He found one on the leeward side, behind some overgrown vines. It took a couple of hard shoves with his shoulder, but the wooden door at last gave way. The inside was dark and dank; the scent of mold assaulted his nose. He ignored it, relieved at finally getting out of the overbearing sun. His skin was slicked with sweat; the remains of his shirt clung to him. At least the inside was cool.

He found a torch and some flint; a couple of swipes of his hook got it lit. He carried it aloft, searching for any kind of supplies or foodstuffs. His stomach growled loudly; he couldn't recall the last time he ate. His search finally turned up some stairs; curious, he started to climb.

Emma could just see the burned ship out her window. She'd watched the battle as much as she could, listened to the screams of terror as her guardian attacked the majestic ship. The skull and cross bones irrationally gave her hope; it was almost too much to hope for. Could the ship be the _Jolly Roger_? She knew the ship as well as anyone; it was her home. It was the place where she'd fallen hopelessly in love with her pirate. She felt much more at ease there than she ever had in her parents' castle. That place was part of her legacy, her destiny as her mother's heir, but it wasn't the life she wanted. Not yet. Emma still yearned for adventure and passion, something she found with Killian. He'd opened a whole new world for her; she wasn't ready to abandon it.

A noise caught her attention. She searched frantically for a weapon, just in case. The windowsill was partially rotted; Emma grabbed it and gave it an almighty wrench. It came free, momentarily staggering her. She righted herself just in time, wood held aloft as the door to her prison creaked open.

The world stopped.

Emma stared at the intruder, dumbstruck. He looked equally shocked, his handsome face registering confusion. "Killian?"

He blinked, shaking his damp hair out of his eyes. "Who are you?"

Emma bit her lip, fighting the sharp crack in her heart. How could he not know her? He looked exactly the same, aside from his ragged and dirty clothes. Oh gods, had he been on that ship? Was he hurt? "Killian, it's me. Emma."

"Not to be rude, love, but I've never seen you before." She was beautiful, this woman. Even Killian—who didn't have much experience with women—could see that. Young, blonde, green eyes that were almost hypnotic. She was easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. But he was sure he would remember, if he'd ever seen her.

Emma's lip trembled, but she fought it. That was her Killian. She was sure of it. Something was wrong; her mind instantly flashed to the Dark One. If anyone had the power to make Killian forget her, it was that monster. They could figure this out. Together. "I promise you," she said, setting her shoulders. "You know me. Could you help me get out of these?" Se held up her chained wrists; she saw Killian shake himself into action. Emma had to suppress a smile; even if he claimed not to remember her, something drew him to her. She just had to get him to remember.

He approached the woman more eagerly than he probably should have. She'd long since dropped the makeshift weapon, seemingly confident in her assertion that they knew each other. Someone else would take advantage of that but as Killian saw it, they were both in desperate straits. Yet, he hesitated when he got close. She was lovely, almost unbearably so. She'd clearly been a prisoner for some time; her dress was a bit ragged, her golden locks in need of a good brushing. But her natural beauty shined through. There was none of that false allure he sometimes saw in the doxies at port. He'd steered well clear of such women; he wouldn't have known how to proceed, if he had been so inclined. It was a bit shameful to admit, but he was still a virgin.

Emma saw him hesitate; she yearned to take him into her arms, kiss those lips. But she would need to be careful. She didn't want to scare him away. What could the Dark One have done to take her confident sexy pirate from her?

"There's no key," Killian murmured, examining the cuffs around her wrists. He was careful not to touch _her_ ; he could feel the tips of his ears heating up. He'd never been so close to a woman before.

Emma's breathing hitched; even if he didn't remember her, she remembered him. Having him so close set her body alight; she missed him so much. Her eyes hovered on his lips; gods, she needed him to kiss her! Emma forced herself to focus; she needed to get free. "I think there are some in the guard room," she said, her voice surprisingly breathless. "I'm not sure where that is."

"Guard room?"

"She wasn't always a dragon, you know."

Killian blinked, surprised. "That…beast was guarding you?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah. I'm not sure how I got here, but she was my guardian."

"She?" He couldn't fathom a dragon being male or female, even though logically, it made sense. Shuddering involuntarily, he glanced away. "Apologies, love."

"For what?"

"It's…she's dead. I saw it."

Emma let out a breath. "Thank the gods."

"But you said…"

"Believe me, Captain, I'm not here by choice."

Killian shook his head. "I'm not the captain. I'm just a deckhand."

That confused the hell out of her. "Not the captain? That doesn't make sense. The Killian Jones I know is captain of the _Jolly Roger_."

"Then perhaps you know a different Killian Jones." Although, he couldn't fathom how that was possible. Then again, she was the strangest lass he'd ever met. "I've always been a deckhand."

Emma fumed silently as he went to search for the keys to her cuffs. Not at Killian. Never at him. No, she was furious with the Dark One. How could he do this? Somehow, he'd turned her brave mischievous pirate captain into a completely different person. She knew him so well; she _knew_ her Killian was in there somewhere. He had to be. Not even the Dark One was that powerful. He couldn't hide the real Killian from her. She was going to get him back. Get him back and get the hell off this rock.

It would just take some time.

Killian returned faster than she expected, keys dangling from his hook. Once her wrists were free, she cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. He looked a little scared; Emma couldn't help but stroke his cheekbones with her thumbs. "What are you doing?" he whispered. Gods, he was shaking, just a little.

"Getting my pirate back." She reached into herself, summoning her magic. She'd always assumed the cuffs themselves were blocking her; she'd tried repeatedly to free herself during her captivity. Yet, nothing happened. She tried again, brow furrowing in concentration.

After two more tries, she sagged, defeated. Killian's eyes were still vacant, no recognition. It looked like he was really gone.

Killian shifted uncomfortably as the lady turned away, the anguish evident on her face. Whoever the Killian she knew was, he was important to her. Very important. She desperately missed this person; Killian was seized with an urgent desire to _be_ man she wanted him to be. "I'm sorry."

Emma breathed deeply, needing to get her emotions under control. This was a setback. She would not let it defeat her. Whatever the Dark One had done to him had clearly affected her as well. They would overcome it, just like they did everything else. "It's not your fault."

"You were…close to this man? The other Killian?"

Emma nodded. "He's my husband." She stopped herself just in time from mentioning Liam; that would have been too much. She prayed that he was safe from this madness.

Killian blinked. "Oh." Husband? Bloody hell. What could another version of him have done to win the heart of this beauty? He had no idea, but he was a lucky bastard.

Emma glanced at the side of his shirt. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a scratch."

"Let me see." She didn't wait for his assent; she peeled away the torn ribbons, taking in his injuries. It didn't look that bad, but it needed to be cleaned. His left forearm was red, the skin slightly blistered. If she had her magic, she could heal him. She didn't, so they would have to make due. "Take off your shirt."

"Excuse me?"

"That needs cleaned. Take off your shirt, please." She left her stone cell for the first time, seeking some clean water and other supplies. She heard Killian follow her; she tried to ignore the wave of longing she felt. He was so close, but he'd never felt so far away from her. It hurt, more than she wanted to admit.

They found some supplies down at the base of the tower; someone had tried to make a home here. Her guardian? Emma had never seen her properly, just as the hand sliding her food in the door. Whoever she was, she appeared to be in a prison too. Emma gestured for Killian to sit on a stool; she glanced away as he removed his hook and his shirt. She found some clean rags, salve and a bucket of water; Emma lugged them over to where he sat.

It was awkward. Emma tried not to look at him, tried not to drink him in. She gently scrubbed the sweat and dirt and salt from his skin; he was adorable, his cheeks pink, the tips of his ears red with embarrassment. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he was acting like a virgin. Could that be possible? Her Killian, naïve in the ways of women and sex? When she first knew him, she was jealous of all the women he'd known before her, despite his assurances that those women meant nothing to him. They shared True Love; she knew he was telling the truth. She'd never forget their first time together, the way he took care of her, the pleasure making her toes curl. He hadn't at all been what she expected; it left her wanting to explore more with him. It put her on the road to led to this, Emma as wife, mother, princess, pirate. He helped her find her true self; she wouldn't rest until she'd done the same for him.

They found him another linen shirt in a beat up bureau. It wasn't as memorable as the velvet and linen high collared shirt he'd arrived in, but to Emma, he was still unfairly sexy. The air around them was thick with tension and embarrassment. What would happen next?

"We need to get out of here," Emma said finally. "How bad is the ship?"

"She's beached on a sandbar," Killian reported. "It'll take some work to make her seaworthy again."

"Then we better get to work."

* * *

Days passed. They had plenty of food and water; Emma knew for a fact that supply ships arrived monthly from the mainland. A shipment had come just a few days ago; as long as they rationed it, they would be fine. It was the _Jolly Roger_ that was the trouble. Killian hadn't been exaggerating; the ship was in bad shape. Without her magic, it would take some time to get her into shape for them to sail away from this place.

Every day was the same. They slept in separate corners, Killian chivalrously offering Emma the lone bed. They woke up, had breakfast, sometimes engaging in small talk, sometimes not. Killian was very shy; she wasn't used to it. She worked on drawing him out of his shell; sometimes, she saw flashes of her Killian. It was heartwarming and excruciating at the same time. She wanted to feel his arms around her, but he was too polite and circumspect for that.

By day, they worked on the _Jolly_ , cleaning away the remnants of the battle (as well as some bodies). The biggest obstacle to making the ship seaworthy was the state of the sails and rigging. The attack left the upper rigging in tatters; it would take some time to patch something together. Time they could ill afford.

Killian said nothing as his companion bedded down for the night. He could feel the frustration rolling off her in waves. This was the last place she wanted to be. He wasn't the person she wanted to be with. He tortured himself nearly every night, listening. At first, he'd been horribly embarrassed once he realized what she was doing. Soft moans would come from her bunk; he sometimes heard her breathe his name. He knew it wasn't _him_ that she yearned for, but it affected him all the same. He would toss and turn, cock aching, hungry for _something._ He could almost picture her above him, riding him, her gorgeous body on display for him.

It was so absurd, but gods, he wanted it. He wanted _her._ But she belonged to someone else. Someone who wore his face.

A few days later, Emma was up on the rigging, carefully threading through one of their handmade ropes. It took the better part of the week, but it felt good to be making some kind of progress. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand seeing the man she loved and not touching him the way she wanted to. She was so conflicted. Deep in her heart, she knew he was the same man. She hesitated because she didn't want to scare him away; he seemed so innocent. And yet…she was growing to like this version of him. A lot. He was shy, blushed easily; he was kind and hard working. She liked teasing him. While they worked, he often shed his shirt, making her breathless and leaving her aching. She was certain he didn't know the effect he had on her. But it was torture. She sought relief in the privacy of her bunk, touching herself, wringing orgasm after orgasm from her body. Her need for him remained.

Was this the Dark One's way of torturing her? Bring her so close to the man she loved, knowing all the while that he didn't recognize her?

She spotted him struggling with a roll of the stiff cloth they'd discovered in the _Jolly_ 's hold. She felt so lecherous, observing the way the muscles bunched and flexed under his skin, skin glistening with sweat. A bolt of need shot to her core; Emma bit back a moan. He might only be a deckhand, but long years on board ship made him strong, toning and sculpting his body. She imagined herself tracing his muscles with her tongue, stripping him naked and making him beg. He was the same man; she wanted to run her tongue along his length, toy with the belled head.

Emma quickly climbed back into the crow's nest, her core clenching. Quickly, she yanked her pants open and shoved her hand inside them. She was soaked, her sex hot and slick, begging to be filled. "Fuck," she gasped, grinding her hips against her hand. Her fingers deftly circled her clit, sending a shudder down her spine. She imagined it was Killian's hand down her pants, his hard body pressed against her from behind. She could almost feel his hard erection digging into her ass, hips grinding against her. She plunged two fingers inside her heat, bracing her feet on the floor so she could get a better angle. Her lover would be merciless, fingering her hard and fast, demanding she come with that tone that never ceased to make her quiver with need. Emma climaxed quickly, waves of pleasure rocking her, leaving her breathless.

"Killian," she panted, teasing her clit, dragging out her pleasure as long as possible. "Killian."

Gods, she missed him.

It took her several minutes to calm down; she wiped her hand clean on the tail of her shirt. Thankfully, they'd found some more suitable clothes for her on the _Jolly_ ; it was the most she'd felt like herself in a long time. She almost didn't want to climb down, afraid that this Killian would see her and know. But could anyone blame her? Her husband was _right there_ but some unknown force of magic was keeping him from her bed. She knew what she felt was wrong, but she couldn't help it. Killian Jones was the anchor in her life. She wasn't quite right without him at her side.

Killian glanced away as she climbed down; he didn't want her to catch him staring. Her lovely pert arse was on display in those bloody pants; she was distracting enough as it was. Once again, he cursed his other self, her husband; that man could enjoy her charms as often as he wished. Judging from the breathy moans he heard in the night, Emma was a very eager participant in those nocturnal activities. He was so distracted by his errant thoughts, he misjudged the weight of the roll he was dragging. It fell heavily on his foot, sending him sprawling. "Fucking hell!"

Emma dashed over, shoving the roll off and dropping to her knees. "Are you alright?"

His foot throbbed, but he didn't think anything was broken. "Aye, I'll be fine. It will mend."

"You should probably be off your feet for a day or two."

"Milady…"

"Emma. I asked you to call me Emma." She was just selfish enough to want to hear her name on his lips.

"Emma. I was under the impression that you wished to leave here as soon as possible. To get back to your…loved ones." He couldn't say the word husband. Not when he wanted her for himself.

She ran her fingers through his hair, a loving yet unconscious gesture. "I do, but we're leaving here together. Surely you have people to get back to?" Did this version of her beloved have anyone? She was almost afraid to hear the answer.

He shook his head. "My brother died some years ago. I'm alone."

Emma's throat seized for a moment; the unbearable loneliness in his voice tore at her heart. She could only imagine the kind of life that existed for him at this moment. It was a far cry from the devil may care pirate she'd first met, but the underlying heartache was the same. Her eyes flitted from his eyes to his lips; Killian thought for a moment that she might kiss him…then it passed. She pressed hers firmly together then squeezed his shoulder. "We're leaving here together then."

He offered her a shy smile. "Yes, milady. Emma."

She smiled back. "Good." Emma helped him to his feet, then down to the little skiff they'd put together to get back and forth to the _Jolly_. When they returned, she insisted on removing his boots and examining his foot. It was a little swollen, but it didn't appear broken. She made them some dinner from their supplies; the meal was considerably friendlier than any before it. Emma spoke of her home; Killian was surprised to discover she was a princess.

"What's so funny?"

"You might be the most un-princess like woman I've ever met. Not that I've known many women. Or any, really." He was blushing furiously now, terribly conscious of outing his deepest secret to this gorgeous siren.

Emma reached out and laid her hand on his arm. "Hey, it's okay." He was so cute; she didn't want to embarrass him. It was also maddening; her body itched to show him exactly what his was capable of.

Killian laughed mirthlessly. "That's kind of you, Emma. But no woman would look twice at me. They never have."

She arched a brow. "I know that's not true. You're sweet and kind, handsome as hell. Women should be lining up." In her real life, Emma knew women were jealous of her. They saw her handsome husband and wanted him for themselves. She saw their eyes following him.

"Don't patronize me, love. I couldn't bear it." Not from her. Awkwardly, he stood, limping away from the meager fire. His foot throbbed but he ignored it. He couldn't ignore the feelings that swirled inside him, feelings for another man's wife. She claimed he wore his face, but he just couldn't believe it. Women like her didn't marry men like him. It didn't happen. Not in his world.

Emma frowned, hurt. As much as the idea of him with another woman pained her, she meant every word. This was a Killian Jones that would make a very good husband. So like hers… _he is yours,_ she reminded herself. _He just doesn't remember._

She stood, cautiously crossing the room. He had his back to her, his shoulders hunched. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. We should go to bed."

"Killian, talk to me. Did I say something to upset you?"

"No," he answered. Too quickly.

Emma moved around him, directly in his line of vision. "Killian, I meant that. All of that. If I had to be stuck here with anyone, I'm glad it was you." She missed her Killian fiercely, but she couldn't help but be drawn to this one.

"I think you really mean that."

"Of course, silly." She stood up on her toes and brushed her lips over his cheek. His scruff made her lips tingle; she had to fight the urge to pull him close and devour his mouth. Leaving him blinking in shock, Emma went to get ready for bed. It was going to be another long night.

* * *

The next few days were more of the same. Killian stayed off his feet for exactly one day, then he insisted on helping. Emma made sure they kept to the guard house, but it was nice. Friendly. Comrades. She absolutely was not fantasizing about climbing into his lap and riding him into oblivion. She didn't imagine him between her thighs, tonguing her to heaven. No, he was her friend.

Her fingers were red and raw from rope burns; she threw it away in a huff. "Everything okay, lass?"

Emma sighed. "Sorry. I just…miss home." _I miss you._

"Ah." He wasn't sure how to help with that, never having had a home himself. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

"It's not that interesting."

"A princess who runs away to become a pirate? I think that's very interesting." He laid his work aside. "Who showed you how to handle a sword?"

"My father. It was something we did together. I didn't like dresses and balls. I loved being in the stables, being outside. My family had a…history. Papa wanted me to be prepared."

"He sounds like a fascinating man." Killian rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you think you could…show me?" If they were going to make a go of this, he would need to stop being a simple deckhand. She deserved a true companion.

Emma's smile made his heart squeeze. "I would love to."

They stood up, Emma hurrying first to wash her hands then dashing to the corner where she kept the sword she'd borrowed from the _Jolly Roger_. It wasn't her sword, the one Killian had made for her, but it would do. She took the scabbard too; if they were going to do this, then she wanted to do it right. "May I?"

Killian tilted his head, curious, but he nodded. He trusted her. It was crazy, but it was true. His breathing hitched as she strapped the scabbard to his waist, then stood back to admire her handiwork. Satisfied, she adjusted his stance, showing him how to hold himself. It felt oddly familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on why.

Emma studied him critically, adjusting his hips again. "Lass?"

"You've never handled a sword?"

"Deckhands aren't usually entrusted with weapons, love."

"Just between us, that's stupid." She moved behind him, wondering the best way to do this. If her theory was right, she simply needed to jog his memory. His body would remember what to do. Of course, to accomplish this task, she would have to touch him. Something she'd mostly avoided in their time together. It was just too painful for her; she didn't want to admit she was afraid he would reject her.

"Emma?" She had a strange look on her face; he wished he knew how to take it away.

"Sorry. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Slowly, he nodded. "I want to…I need to do this. I don't want to be a coward."

Emma's heart broke for him. "You're not a coward," she promised him. "You never could be." She stepped closer, resting her hands lightly on his waist. "Just follow my lead, okay?"

"As you wish."

Emma bit her lip; sudden tears stinging her eyes. He _was_ in there. Her Killian was with her; he had been all along. Before he could suspect her sudden emotional state, she slid her right hand over his, while her left held his body steady. She heard his soft intake of breath; the tips of his ears were bright red. Emma guided his arm, encouraging him to grasp the hilt of the sword. Excruciatingly slowly, they drew the weapon from its scabbard.

Killian's breathing was shallow. She was _so_ close. Her soft curves were pressed against his back; he could smell her unique sunflower scent. She was so warm; her breath tickled the base of his neck. He struggled to focus as she demonstrated how to hold the cutlass properly. "Sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed that she had to correct his grip twice.

"It's okay," she murmured. "We'll go as slow as you need."

"Could he do this?" Killian asked. "The other me?"

Emma nodded. "He's one of the best I've ever seen. We like to train together."

Once again, jealousy curled in his gut. Oh, how he hated this man who wore his face! Killian hoped he understood how lucky he was to have this woman in his life. She was incredible, unlike anyone he'd ever known. "I shall try to be a worthy companion, Princess."

Emma saw the shadow cross his face. It confused her. Was he…jealous? Of himself? Here was this man, driving her to distraction with his…everything, and he was jealous! It almost made her laugh out loud. She managed to bite it back at the last second; she didn't want him to think she was making fun of him. She simply wanted him.

"You already are." Together, they drew the cutlass through the air in a long arc. Killian's movements were hesitant at first, his body filled with tension. Emma refused to give up, demonstrating some of the moves that he had shown her in their other life. Almost unconsciously, her left hand began to stroke his hip; Killian suppressed a shudder. She was killing him slowly.

Emma wasn't sure how long they worked through the various stances and moves. Killian improved rapidly; as she suspected, his body remembered what to do. But she was selfish. Now that she had him under her fingertips, she didn't want to stop.

Eventually, her good sense won out. They sheathed the sword and Emma stepped back. Just a little. Killian missed her warmth instantly. "Emma?"

"There. You should be able to hold your own if we get into trouble."

 _I'm already in trouble,_ he thought. She was so beautiful, her cheeks slightly pink, her lips parted and swollen from where she'd nibbled them. "Is something troubling you, love?"

"No. Yes. It doesn't matter." How could she explain how much she longed for him? How her body ached for him?

"It does matter." He stepped closer, reaching up carefully to stroke her cheek. "You're upset."

Emma's eyes fell closed; it was the first time he'd instigated a touch. Instinctively, she leaned into his hand, nuzzling it. "Sorry," she said hastily, once she realized her mistake. She moved away, her heart shattering. She'd never experienced anything like this; the Dark One would pay for what he'd done. She would make sure of it.

"What is it, lass? Talk to me."

Gods, the more he spoke, the more forcefully she was reminded of her Killian. It was slowly destroying her. "I can't. I don't want to hurt you." She loved her Killian; she loved _this_ Killian. She couldn't explain, even if she wanted to.

Wait, what?

Emma turned, looking up at him. This sweet, kind, shy man…she loved him. She did. She loved him every bit as much as she loved her sexy dominant pirate captain. Because this Killian was her Killian. He was both. "Oh gods."

Her tone frightened him. He couldn't tell what she was thinking. The way she was looking at him, a mixture of pain and awe and love, he couldn't take it. "I'm sorry," he said heavily. "I'm sure you miss him. I was foolish." He started to walk away, unable to remain there any longer.

"Killian, wait! Please don't go. Please." Her voice broke; she couldn't take it if he left. He hesitated, and she hurried after him, catching his hook in her hand. He stopped, looking down at her hand in shock. No one touched his hook. Ever. It was a symbol of how broken he was.

Emma saw his face; she offered him a small smile. She continued to caress the metal appendage, hoping he could see that she accepted him exactly as he was. "I do miss my husband," she confessed. "Very much. I know you don't believe me, but my husband isn't far. He's right here." She rested her other hand on his chest. "I know it. I can feel it, right here." She leaned in and pressed her lips to the exposed skin; she felt him stiffen.

"Emma, I'm just…"

"I love you," she said clearly. "I love the version of you that's a deckhand. I love the version of you that's a pirate captain. I love the man who holds me when I'm afraid. I love the man who found the woman inside the princess and loved her with his whole heart. I know you don't remember any of this, but I just needed you to know."

Emma forced herself to step away. She couldn't force him to love her too. She probably wasn't making any sense to him, but she couldn't hide how she felt anymore. It was too hard. Killian simply stared at her, seconds bleeding into minutes. He was completely stunned, flabbergasted by her words. This incredible wonderful creature loved him. It shined in her eyes like green fire. He knew without a doubt that he loved her. She was something out of his dreams, lovely, feisty, and kind. If she was right…was it wrong to be with her? Even if he didn't remember? Only a fool would turn her away.

Killian Jones was finished being a fool.

He stared at her so long that Emma began to lose hope. Her throat started to grow tight; she didn't want him to see her cry. She turned away at the last moment, but she came up short. Killian caught her wrist with his hook, forcing her to turn. "Emma, don't cry, lass. I couldn't bear it."

She looked up at him, a single tear sliding down her cheek. Killian brushed it away with his thumb, tipping her chin up. They leaned in at the same time, both unwilling to wait any longer. Emma shivered as their lips finally touched; she clutched at shirt. Killian felt awkward, afraid of disappointing her. Emma cupped his cheeks, holding him close, caressing his lips with hers. His arms snaked around her waist; she mewled as his hook accidentally pressed firmly against her ass. It was like an electric shock, all the need and desire she'd been trying in vain to bury surging forward. Emma sank her fingers in her lover's hair, holding him to her as she coaxed him to open.

Killian stumbled backwards slightly, surprised by her warm tongue pressing against the seam of his lips. "Emma, lass…"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Hell no." A noise he didn't recognize caught in his throat as she kissed him again, her lips warm and silky. They stumbled backwards, Killian's back thunking hard against the stone. He groaned, his blood rushing _south._ "Emma," he gasped between kisses. "What are you doing to me?"

She slid her lips over his scruffy jaw and down his throat. He smelled even better than she remembered; her core clenched. Gods, she'd missed him. "Loving you," she replied, looking into his shining baby blues. "If you'll let me?"

He ran his hand through her hair; the strands felt good between his fingers. He never thought he would be this close to a woman, let alone _this_ woman. He wanted her, but gods, he was nervous. "Lass, I've never…" He turned his head, ashamed.

Emma touched his jaw, coaxing him back. "We can stop."

"No!" His shout surprised even him. "I mean…I want you, lass. More than I can say. I just don't want to be a disappointment."

Emma stood up on her toes and pressed her mouth firmly to his. He melted against her, arms tightening around her waist as she plied him with slow needy kisses. "You could never disappoint me, Killian. Not ever." Slowly, she brought his hand to his breast; together, they fondled and squeezed the soft mound. Emma sighed in pleasure, her eyes fluttering shut as her nipples hardened. "More, Killian."

"Tell me what you need, my darling." He was in awe, loving the way her body responded to his touch.

She bit her lip. "I just…need." She moved his hand to her crotch, letting him feel how hot and wet she was. "Feel what you do to me, Killian."

Still marveling at this turn of events, he plucked open the laces of her pants. His fingertips caressed her flat belly, her skin so hot, the muscles underneath trembling. With a naughty wink, she seized his wrist, pressing his hand deeper into her pants. She wore no underwear; hers had long since disintegrated. Emma kept her eyes on his as she guided him, his fingers gliding over her mound. She spread her legs a little wider, letting out a low moan as he discovered her swollen wet sex.

"Bloody hell," Killian breathed, her flesh slick and hot.

Emma smiled, giving her hips a little wiggle. "All for you," she assured him, dragging his mouth back to hers. The kiss was less controlled, filled with passion and barely restrained need. "Need you so much."

"Show me what to do," he whined, his own need making his trousers uncomfortable. "Want you, Emma."

She wanted him too, so badly, but it was like their first time all over again. Only this time Killian was the curious virgin, eager to please. He'd done so much for her that first time, easing her nerves, bringing her toe curling pleasure. This was their chance to do it all again, allow Emma to be _his_ first, rather than the other way around.

She wasn't going to waste it.

"Patience," she whispered, recalling his advice to her. She kissed him again, reluctantly drawing his hand from her pants. She licked the fingertips clean, smiling at his low moan of pleasure. "Lean against the wall."

Killian did as she requested; it was a good thing too, because his legs were rapidly becoming jelly. To his utter shock, she dropped to her knees, one hand cupping the sizable bulge in his pants. He groaned as she stroked him through the leather, hips rocking into her touch. "Fuck."

Seeing her Killian start to come unraveled never failed to make her wet. Emma opened his fly with her teeth, keeping her eyes on his. She peeled the leather back; like her Killian, he wore nothing under the leather. She rubbed her cheek against his engorged cock, the rigid flesh silky against hers.

Killian pressed his shoulders into the wall, struggling to remain upright. He never imagined anything like this; Emma was a goddess at his feet, worshiping his cock. The moment her tongue touched him he was lost, unable to speak or think. All he could do was feel. Her warm wet tongue lapped at his flesh, short licks, long licks, swirling around the belled head. She teased the sensitive skin under his tip, drawing the foreskin back to expose him. Killian grunted and sighed, his hand flying to her head. "Emma, Emma…fucking hell."

"Love doing this," she whispered, licking him from root to tip. "Love it so much." He was beautiful, his cock was beautiful to her. Long, thick, rigid with a vein she loved to tease with her teeth. She ran kisses along his length, her hand sinking back into her pants. "I'm so wet, Killian. Want you inside me, filling me, marking me as yours. Fuck." She pressed two fingers into her heat, knees spread as far as the pants would allow.

"Emma…oh gods…"

She took him into her mouth, bobbing her head slowly, suckling the swollen head. She could feel him trembling, his eyes burning into her. It spurred her on; she bounced on her fingers, her orgasm coiling tight in her belly. Wetness flooded her hand as she climaxed, her moan of pleasure vibrating along Killian's cock. His hand tightened in her hair as he followed, hot spurts of his seed hitting the back of her throat. She swallowed him down, every drop, pleasure suffusing every nerve.

Killian sagged against the wall, rung out, exhilarated, yet faintly ashamed. He couldn't hang on; her mouth, those moans, her pleasure…it was all too much. He wanted her so badly and he'd gone and bolloxed it up, coming like some green lad.

Emma laid her head on his hip, basking in the afterglow. In this world, she was the teacher; they had plenty of time for more lessons. She had no intention of letting this be the end. But when she looked up, Killian looked utterly distraught. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I failed you, love. I am so sorry."

She stood, not bothering to adjust her clothing. If she had anything to say about it, she wouldn't be wearing them much longer. "No, you didn't. That was all about you, silly."

He tilted his head, confused. "But I thought…men and women did…more?" He turned red, embarrassed by his lack of experience.

She smiled softly. "They do. Did you not enjoy that?"

"No! I mean, yes, I did. Very much." He scratched behind his ear, the nervous tic making Emma smile fondly. "I just thought…"

Emma placed her hand on his chest and brushed her lips over his. "Who said we were done?" she murmured.

Killian's brows shot up in surprise. "Yeah?"

Rather than reply, Emma simply crossed her arms and lifted her shirt over her head. Then she tugged off her boots and pants, leaving her nude. Killian's gaze raked down her body, lingering on her breasts, her damp blonde curls at the apex of her thighs. She found herself blushing, both aroused and shy. She'd been naked with her pirate hundreds of times—hell, they loved to sleep in the nude—but this was different. It was like he was seeing her with new eyes; she wondered if he liked what he saw.

"You're…you're…" He was at a loss for words. She was exquisite. Beautiful wasn't enough. She was everything he'd ever wanted.

"Killian?"

"Stunning," he said hoarsely. "Utterly stunning." Feeling bolder than he ever had in his life, he closed the gap between them and kissed her. Emma clutched at his arms, her knees weakening almost instantly. The shy hesitant man was beginning to give way; she wanted everything he had to give. She opened for him, moaning as he slipped his tongue past her lips. He seemed content to explore her, taste her; she fisted his shirt, needing the support of his strong lean body.

"Killian," she whimpered, blatantly rubbing herself against him. It would be a little while before he was ready to take her, but she was burning for him. "Killian."

"May I?" He skimmed his hand over her side, tracing her curves, cupping her breast.

"Anything," she promised, arching into his touch. "But…"

"Yes?"

"I want to feel you too. Your skin against mine."

He groaned, agreeing with her wholeheartedly. His breathing hitched as she reached for his shirt, carefully lifting it over his head. Dropping the linen to the stone floor, Emma pressed her lips to his skin. She ran a line of wet kisses down his sternum, her fingers caressed his chest, his sides, his stomach. _"Emma."_

"Soon, sailor." She pushed gently on his trousers, sliding the leather down his legs. She had to kneel down to tug off his boots and the leather; she licked her lips in anticipation. She couldn't help it. He was so beautiful, his body lean and toned, the V of his hips taking her breath away.

Killian blushed again, embarrassed but eager to please her. He was still flaccid, but she didn't seem to mind. She still looked at him like she wanted to devour him. When she stood, Emma pressed her palm to his. "Still with me?"

He nodded. "Aye."

Emma threaded their fingers together and led him to the small bed. It wasn't overly comfortable, but it would do. Killian stretched out on his side; Emma did the same across from him. Belatedly, he realized he was still wearing his hook. "Oh, I should…"

Emma laid her hand on his brace. "You don't have to," she assured him. "Unless you want to. I don't mind."

"Truly?" He felt self-conscious; he didn't want to break the spell they found themselves under. "Does he…"

Emma nodded. "It's part of who you are," she murmured. "I love you, all of you." She inched closer, snuggling against him. She cupped his cheek and brought his lips to hers. They kissed slowly, thoroughly, in no rush. For Emma, she was relearning him, memorizing once more all the way she could make him sigh and moan. Killian couldn't stop touching her, the feel of her skin perfect under his fingertips. Once, his hook accidentally brushed the side of her breast; Killian drew it back hastily.

Emma shivered, the cool metal very welcome. He needed to know she wasn't afraid. She grabbed the brace and drew the hook back to her, dragging it down the valley of her breasts. Killian watched in awe as she touched herself with the appendage, using the curved edge to circle a nipple. The skin puckered quickly; Emma moaned softly. "Oh yes."

"You like that?"

"Does it surprise you?" She couldn't stop, rolling on her back so she could give the other the same treatment.

"You always surprise me." He took control of appendage, dragging it over her belly. Emma's breathing hitched; he was getting closer and closer to her sex. He watched as her skin flushed a deep pink; he could almost smell her arousal. "Even here?"

Emma allowed her legs to fall open, inviting his touch. "Please."

He was a little clumsy at first, but Emma quickly found herself grinding over the curve of her lover's hook, her juices coating the metal. Her little whine and pants were starting to get to him; his cock twitched, slowing coming to life. Emma reached up, cupping the back of his head. He heeded her silent plea, kissing her slowly, reverently as she pleasured herself on his hook. "Gods, love."

"Close," she breathed, another orgasm coiling in her belly. "So close, Killian."

Her chest taunted him; Killian ducked down and captured a hard nipple between his lips. Emma arched, quickly threading her hand into his hair to keep him there. The twin attentions quickly sent her over the edge, her body trembling and shaking as she climaxed. She cried out, her hips bucking off the bed. "Killian! Yes, yes!"

Gods, he would do anything to hear his name on her lips. Especially like that. "I love you, sweetling. So much."

Emma panted hard as she came down from her high. It continued to buzz through her system, but she wasn't sated. Not yet. Not even close. She rolled on her side, fusing her mouth to his. To her joy, she could feel his cock, heavy and hard against her stomach. "Love you, love you, love you." Somehow they switched positions, Killian on his back, Emma straddling his hips. She bent over him, still kissing him. Killian ran his hand down her back, settling over the arse he so admired.

"Emma." His voice was breathy, hoarse; her heat hovered just over his straining cock. "Tell me you want this."

"So much." Their gazes remained locked as she lowered her hips, her swollen sex sliding easily against the hard ridge of his cock. She rolled her hips sensuously, coating him in her juices. She sat up, rolling and plucking at her nipples, knowing she needed to be good and slippery before she could take him. She didn't know how long it had been since she'd had sex; her lover wasn't small by any means. He always filled her to the brim, reaching places she'd only imagined in her naughtiest fantasies.

"Emma… _fuck_ ," he cursed, the need coiling at the base of his spine almost unbearable.

She found his hand, bringing it to her clit. She showed him how to touch her, thumb moving in circles until she was on the verge of another orgasm. "Just like that, Killian," she breathed. "Just a little more…." She bit her lip hard as she climaxed a third time, hips rocking madly against his cock, making it last as long as possible.

"You are extraordinary," Killian murmured as he caught her. He laid her beside him gently, pressing kisses into her skin.

Emma sighed under his touch; she was ready. She was so ready for him. "Killian," she whimpered. "Please. I need you. Please."

He kissed her shoulder. "Are you certain?"

She nodded. "I only ever want you. Always." He was the only man she'd ever loved, here and in their real life. She belonged with him.

Killian blushed. "Help me?"

Emma nodded, recalling exactly how Killian had soothed her fears their first time. She smiled, coaxing him to kiss her again. They melted into each other, Emma reaching down to stroke him lightly with her hand. He groaned, rocking into her fist. He laid half on top of her; she twisted her hips, encouraging him to slide between her legs. Once he was there, he looked down at her in awe. "Emma?"

"It's okay," she murmured. "You won't hurt me. I'm ready." She widened her legs, reaching down to help him. She rubbed the tip of him over her entrance, making them both groan. Canting her hips, Emma breathed deeply, her eyes locked on Killian's blue ones.

Killian braced his left arm above her head; he was nervous. He didn't want to hurt her. Nor did he want to make a fool of himself. He wanted her so much, more than he'd ever allowed himself to want anything. Her eyes seemed to know what he was thinking. _Focus on me,_ they said. _I love you._ That convinced him to move, easing his hips forward. There was pressure, then he was there, sliding into her swollen heat. Killian ducked his head, not from embarrassment, but from a need to control himself. She felt so good, better than anything his feeble mind could conjure. He wasn't even all the way inside her; she was so hot and tight and wet…he never wanted to leave her. "Emma, _my Emma."_

"Yours," she affirmed. "Always yours." She bit her lip, needing more. "More, Killian. _Please."_

He nodded, inching deeper and deeper inside her. Twin needy moans echoed in the room once he was fully inside her, his length and girth exactly what she'd missed. Tears stung her eyes; she was so _happy_ to have her Killian with her once more.

He saw the tears slide down her cheeks; Killian stilled instantly. "Have I hurt you?"

"No! Gods, you feel so good," she brought his lips to hers, kissing tenderly. "I'm happy. I'm _so_ happy."

"Me too, love." He hissed as Emma slid her hands down his back, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass. It spurred him to move, hips rocking into hers over and over, creating the delicious drag and friction he needed without realizing it. Emma seemed to feel the same, bucking under him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Under her touch, his hesitation and worry faded until all he could feel was her. Surrounding him, loving him.

Emma arched, hooking her foot over Killian's hip, forcing him deeper inside her. She keened, his cock hitting the perfect spot. "Harder," she breathed. "Fuck me harder!"

Killian did as she bid, their skin slapping together, their moans and grunts of pleasure music. Emma knew her body well; she snaked a hand between them, determined to come with him. He was trembling above her; she knew he was close. The moment her finger touched her clit, her core clenched. She stroked faster, harder, so, so close.

"Emma, Emma, _fuck!"_ Killian exploded, coming harder than he ever had in his life. He felt her follow him, her walls clenching around him, milking every last drop of cum from his cock. He thrust hard, once, twice, three times before collapsing on top of her, utterly spent. Emma held him close, reveling in the way his weight pressed her into the mattress.

Killian eventually rolled off her, belatedly aware that he might be crushing her. Emma stayed close to him, snuggling into his chest. He brushed a kiss over the crown of her head, then started working the straps on his hook. "Here, let me," Emma murmured. She sat up and worked the straps expertly, like she'd done it many times before. Could she be right? Could he actually be her husband, as she believed? Why didn't he remember her? Why didn't he remember the life she described? He wanted to, badly. He wanted to be the man she deserved. He loved her too much for anything else.

"Where are you going?"

Emma smiled. "Just going to clean up, sailor. Be right back." He watched as she slipped off the bed, padding over to the washbasin nude. She was so beautiful; it made his chest ache.

Emma tilted her head as she padded back to the little bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"You."

Emma flushed, but climbed in beside him. He gathered her in his arms; Emma felt truly safe for the first time since this nightmare began. "Anything I should be worried about?"

"I don't think so?"

"It's okay. If you don't want to talk about it."

"No, Emma, it's not that." He kissed her forehead. "I've just been thinking about what you've told me. You still think your husband and I are the same man?"

"I know you are."

"I wish I could remember. I hate that I might have forgotten you."

"We'll fix it, Killian. What's important is that you found me."

"Hardly a shining moment, love. I had no idea you were here."

"It doesn't matter. We'll get out of here, find the Dark One and figure out how to bring you back."

She sounded so confident, but there was a niggling doubt in his mind. "Would it be so terrible? If I were just…me?"

Emma looked horrified. "No! Oh, Killian, no. That's not what I meant. I am so sorry!" She kissed him quickly. "I meant what I said earlier. I love _you._ It's so confusing, because I see my Killian in you and I've seen you in him. You're both the man I love." She didn't know if she was explaining this well. "But there is something else you should know."

Dread filled his stomach. "What?"

"It's not bad." She touched his face, tracing his features with her fingertips. Their son looked so much like his father. "At least, I hope it's not."

"Emma, what is it?"

"Where I come from…we have a son. His name is Liam."

Killian stared at her, in utter shock. "A son?" His throat was tight; he could barely get the words out. He couldn't believe that somewhere, he was a father. It didn't feel real.

"He looks just like you," she said with a watery smile. "Except for having my chin, the poor thing."

"I happen to like your chin." He bent and kissed her there, still trying to wrap his mind around this revelation. "How old is he?"

"Still just a baby. But he loves his papa very much. He knows the sound of your voice; you tell him stories and sing to him."

A dreadful fear seized him. "Do you think he's safe? If we're trapped here as you fear…"

Emma nodded. "I think he is. I hope he is. I need him to be safe. I need both of my boys to be safe." She hugged him tightly; Killian hugged her back, just as fiercely. "I want my family to be together."

If she was right—and Killian no longer had any reason to doubt her sincerity—they needed to find a way out of here. Quickly. The idea of his son somewhere out there without his parents threatened to crack his heart in two. "We'll find him," he promised her. "We'll get home."

Emma sniffed. "I didn't know how to tell you," she confessed. "I wanted to, but you didn't remember me, and I was afraid it would make things worse. I didn't know how you felt about me."

"Shhh, it's alright, lass. I'm not angry. To be honest, I'm not sure how I would have reacted to this news, even a few hours ago. You made the right choice."

"I love you," she said fiercely. "I love you so much."

"And I you, darling." He kissed her, long and slow, sealing his silent promise to never leave her alone again.

* * *

If their first couple of weeks together were tense and detached, the last week was blissful. Every day they woke up entwined in the lumpy bed, soft morning kisses leading to toe curling pleasure. Like the sword, Killian was a quick study, learning numerous ways he could make her come. It was every bit as exciting as their first weeks together back in Emma's real life, where they hardly left the captain's quarters. They were addicted to each other.

Once they managed to drag themselves from bed, they would pole out to the ship, working hard to get her shipshape. Or at least enough for them to leave and get back to the mainland. Emma was constantly frustrated; she kept trying to use the magic she didn't possess in this world. It was so strange; she'd gotten along perfectly well most of her life without magic, but it had gradually become a part of her without her realizing it. They would have left this blasted island long ago if she could simply repair the _Jolly_ with magic. Then she might not have bonded with this Killian, she might not have fallen in love with him all over again. That was a sobering thought.

"Emma?"

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Yes, Killian?"

He crossed the deck, tilting his head. "Everything alright, sweetheart?"

She bit her lip; those little endearments were something she'd missed more than she was willing to admit. "Yeah. Don't worry about me. We should finish." They were close; they'd managed to re-rig a couple of the smaller sails. If they could get the main sail up, they could finally leave this place.

"Perhaps I like worrying about you." For so long, his only goal had been to stay out of the way, to survive. Finding Emma helped him discover things about himself, things he never thought possible. He wanted to be the man she knew. He liked the idea of that, where he was the captain. He wasn't sure if he could do it, but for her, he would try.

"You're sweet." She stood on her toes, brushing her lips over his. She started to move away, but he caught her arm. "What?"

"I'd like to kiss you some more," he admitted, his cheeks still a little pink. As much as they'd shared recently, he still didn't feel completely sure of himself. The only thing he was sure of was the way she made him feel.

She smiled. "Hmm, I'd like that." Her eyes fell shut as he slanted his lips over hers; she wrapped her arms around his neck. He groaned into her mouth as she scratched her nails across the nape of his neck; his hand slid down to her ass. It was Emma's turn to moan as he squeezed her ass, the first licks of arousal sliding up her spine. Killian used that to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue over hers, holding her hips flush to his.

"Emma," he murmured, cock twitching in his pants. "Bloody hell."

Emma hopped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Don't stop." They'd made love so many times on this ship, but never out here in the open. This wasn't a moment to be wasted.

His fingers and hook dug into the soft flesh of her ass; he could feel the heat of her against his crotch. "Here?"

She nodded, bearing her throat to his hungry mouth. "Please."

The closest surface was the wheel; Killian strode forward until Emma's back was against it. She whined in pleasure, her hips grinding firmly against him. "You…gods, the things you do to me," he murmured, mouth sliding down her throat. Pinning her to the wheel left his hand free to wander her lush curves, fondling her through her clothes.

"Tell me," she breathed, arching into his touch. Keeping one hand on his shoulder, she worked the laces that held her shirt together, shivering as his hand finally reached aching flesh. "Tell me."

He pinched her nipple the way she liked, pleased as she bucked against him. "You make me crazy," he growled, shoving his hips forward. "From the moment I met you."

Emma dragged his mouth to hers, kissing him hungrily. "More."

He hid his face in her neck, lips caressing her ear. "I heard you. Touching yourself from across the room. Breathing my name," he confessed. "Couldn't stop listening to you."

Emma bit her lip, a fresh wave of need rolling through her. "I should be sorry," she whispered back. "But I'm not."

"Gods, no," he gasped, rutting more firmly against her, craving her heat. "You are perfect."

"Harder," Emma whined, running her nails down his back. "Be rough with me, Killian. Please."

"Fucking hell." He ground into her, the rough material of their clothes rubbing her just right. Killian ducked his head and sucked firmly on her nipple, Emma's cry of pleasure ringing in his ears as she climaxed in his arms. Their lips met in a needy kiss, neither close to being sated. "Emma, darling…need you."

"Yes, yes," she murmured, rocking against him. "Need you too. So much." She unwound her legs, feeling bereft as he stepped back so she could strip. Clothes fell haphazardly to the deck; Emma turned and spread her legs invitingly. She mewled as her lover moved into place, sliding his hand and hook along the curve of her spine. "Killian."

"Love?"

She arched, putting her ass even more on display. "Don't be shy, sailor," she breathed. "Feel how wet I am for you."

He reached down as she asked, biting his lip. She was right, of course. Wet, swollen, dripping for him. He pressed two fingers into her, cock twitching as she pushed back onto them, fucking them slowly. He hadn't realized how erotic this would be, watching his Emma take her pleasure from his body. "Fuck, you're beautiful, lass."

"Hurry," she whined, clenching around his fingers. "Fuck me. Please, Killian."

He reluctantly removed his hand, offering the fingers for her to lick clean. She did so enthusiastically, getting lost in the taste of herself on his skin. She gripped the notches of the wheel tightly, eager for his cock to penetrate her. She wasn't disappointed, the thick slide of him making her breath catch. He teased her, riding her shallowly for a few strokes, making her wiggle in impatience.

"You feel so fucking good, lass," he murmured, bending over her. "Gods."

"Please," she begged. "I need it. Need you cock inside me."

He gripped her hips, holding her steady so he could give her what she wanted. As little as two days ago, he was much shier about this, wary of hurting her. Clearly, his counterpart had no such compunctions; he was shocked when she pleaded with him to be rougher with her body, to use her for his pleasure. Emma seemed to love it; he was starting to as well. Skin slapped obscenely; Emma's moans floated out over the water. A cool breeze kissed their sweaty skin, both naked as the day they were born. It was intoxicating, exciting, intense. Emma started to rock back in time with his thrusts, her body shuddering as she took his entire length over and over. She reached down with one hand, quickly finding her clit. She rubbed it frantically, her thighs trembling, her body balanced on the balls of her feet. Killian grunted as he felt her climax, her walls rippling along his length. "Killian, Killian," she chanted breathlessly. _"Yes!"_

He tried to hold on, but she felt to good. A handful of strokes later he followed her, balls smacking her clit as he filled her with his seed. Emma trembled in his hold, aftershocks rolling through her as she felt his warm cum deep within her.

Killian pressed kisses into her back, so grateful that she saw something in him that she felt was worthy of her affections. After so long alone, he didn't know what he would do without her.

Emma smiled to herself, touched by his tenderness. It was a trait her Killian shared, something he allowed few people to see. He spent so long as the forbidding pirate captain; she loved that she could bring out the man inside him.

"You're trembling," he murmured in her ear.

"A testament to your skills," she teased back.

"We should get you inside."

"There's a bunk in the captain's quarters."

"Are you sure?"

"It's yours, Killian. You just don't remember." She forced herself to stand—her legs wobbled—then she took his hand. Together, they climbed down the ladders to the quarters she knew well. Aside from the configuration of furniture, it looked nothing like she remembered. Liam's books were gone; harsh light came in through the windows. The curtains were threadbare; they had clearly seen better days. The only thing that was familiar was the narrow bunk along the left wall.

This was wrong. Killian hesitated in the doorway, suddenly very conscious of his nudity. No one entered the captain's quarters without express permission. He didn't belong here.

Emma turned, frowning when she discovered Killian hovering nervously. "Hey, it's okay. No one here but us."

Killian ran his fingers through his hair. "Apologies, lass. This is going to take some getting used to."

She stepped forward, taking his hand and hook in hers and gently leading him inside. He sat on the edge of the bunk as she cleaned herself up, then rejoined him. "You really don't remember, do you?"

He shook his head sadly. "The man who occupied this room terrified me, love. I just wanted to stay out of his way."

Emma stepped between his splayed thighs and hugged him tight. "We can go back to the tower."

Killian shook his head. "No. I want…I need to be the man you remember. The world out there…it's dangerous, Emma."

"I just need you," she countered. "I can take care of us." Could she? Once again, that doubt echoed in the back of her mind. Yes, she was good with a sword, but she would need her magic if they were going to take on the Dark One. Why couldn't she access it? What was wrong with her? It had to be connected to Killian's memory loss, but she couldn't figure it out. She wished she could ask Tinkerbell's advice.

Killian didn't like the shadow that touched her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Emma shook her head. "Nothing."

He touched her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Let me in, sweetheart. Please."

"There's something I haven't told you." He waited patiently for her to continue. "In our world…I have magic. I didn't know, when we first met. I only found out later." She explained how the Dark One tried to steal her power, how her pregnancy protected her, then Killian saved her with True Love's Kiss. She couldn't tell if he believed her or not. "I thought I didn't want my power but now…without it…I feel vulnerable. I want to get it back, but I don't know how. I want to go home and hold my son. But I don't want to lose this either."

Killian watched as her lip quivered; he pulled her into a hug. "We'll find a way to get home, my love. I promise you."

They napped on board the ship for the rest of the day, resolving to start fresh on the morrow.

* * *

A few days later, the Jolly Roger was a ready as they could make her. They spent their last day on the island loading the last of their supplies and waiting for the tide to come in. The ship had drifted off the sandbar two weeks ago; she was now anchored in place. The surrounding water was still shallow, however, so they would need the tide to leave.

"Ready?" Killian asked, eyeing the setting sun.

"I think so," Emma replied, tying her hair back. "Only one way to know for sure though." She was very thankful she'd insisted on her Killian explaining everything he knew about sailing; it had come in very handy these last few weeks. She knew this ship as well as she knew him; she was confident they could make it back to the mainland. She released the lever that pulled the anchor back up and hurried to the main sail. It was awkward with only the two of them, but even in this world, the ship retained some of her magic. As the sun slipped below the horizon, the sails caught, leading them into the open ocean.

Emma let out a whoop and dashed up to the quarterdeck. She lept into Killian's arms; he laughed as he spun her around. When they landed back on their feet, he planted a passionate kiss to her lips. They were finally free.

Emma should have known it was too good to be true.

She knew something was wrong the moment they made landfall. People eyed them suspiciously as they disembarked; she heard whispers as they walked through the small village. Emma held Killian's hand firmly in hers; they were both armed, but that didn't make her feel better. They got a drink at one of the local establishments; neither said much.

"New around here?" the bartender asked casually.

"Something like that," Emma replied, making it clear that she wasn't interested in small talk.

"You look familiar, for some reason."

"Never been here before," she assured the man. But there were others staring too. Some were focused on her; she saw more than one looking at Killian's hook. The moment she finished her drink, she glanced at her companion. "Come on."

They walked a few blocks, then Killian pulled them up short. "Emma, look."

"What?" She glanced to where he was pointing and blanched. It was a wanted poster. With her face. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know, but I think we should leave. Now." They could sail a bit further down the coast, find a place to resupply. Killian wrapped his arm around Emma's shoulders, steering her back toward the docks.

They were too late. Soldiers blocked their path. Hearts pounding, they turned, praying no one noticed them. They got about fifty feet before some called after them. "Oi! You there! Stop!"

"Run!" Emma shouted, taking off. Killian's feet pounded after her; her scabbard thumped against her leg. The dock trembled under them as soldiers followed; men and women started shouting. Emma and Killian had a head start; she knew they would make it. They had to.

Killian cried out; Emma spun around. He'd tripped, sprawled on the deck. She dashed back, intent on helping him up. "Leave me," he growled. "Get out of here!"

"Not a chance," she shouted back. She heaved him to his feet, watching as the soldiers got closer.

"Emma, go," he insisted. "I'm right behind you."

But she took his hand in hers. "Together or not at all."

He dragged her into an alley, ducking behind a stack of discarded barrels. "Emma, you must go. Think of our son."

"I am! He needs his father, Killian. Please. Don't do this." She could see it in his eyes. He was going to offer himself up, so she could get away.

"I've made up my mind, lass." He leaned down and kissed her swiftly, then stepped out of the shadows. Emma felt rooted to the spot for several long seconds, as of she were witnessing events in slow motion. Killian unsheathed his sword as he stepped back into the street, a determined look on his face. He brushed aside the first soldier just as she's taught him, but there were too many. Emma screamed, reaching out with her nonexistent magic but it was too late. She watched him be cut down, blood staining his shirt.

An inhuman scream escaped her throat as the world burned around her.

* * *

"Emma! Emma! Sweetheart, wake up!" Killian shook his wife's shoulder hard, fear gripping his heart. It had been a long time since she'd had a nightmare like this. It frightened him. "Emma!"

She woke with a gasp, heart pounding in her chest. "Killian?"

"I'm here, Princess, right here." He was surprised by the force with which she threw herself into his arms, a sob tearing from her throat. "Shh, love. I've got you. I've got you."

She heard him, but the dream had felt _so_ real. She clung to him, terrified that he would be taken from her. Again. She'd just watched him die in front of her; how long would these kind of dreams torment her?

"It's alright. It's alright, love. You're safe."

"Not me," she sniffed, her voice muffled by his chest.

"Not you?" Suddenly, her terror made sense. "Oh my love, I am so sorry. I'm right here. Safe and sound." This wasn't the first time she'd had a dream about his potential death; he hated they affected her so.

Gradually, her heart slowed, but her grip on him remained. He rolled them over, so she could rest on top of him; he ran his fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Emma was silent for a long time; she wasn't sure she wanted to tell him. But perhaps it would help get the images out of her head. "We were together, but it was strange. I was locked in a tower. I don't know how I got there. But you found me." She offered him a watery smile. "You were different."

That got his attention. "Different how?"

"You didn't know me. And you weren't the captain of the _Jolly Roger_."

"Well, that is peculiar."

"Actually, it was endearing. I liked it."

"And what did you find endearing?"

She traced his cheekbone with her fingers. "You were shy. Sweet. You looked at me like you'd never seen a woman before."

Killian looked askance. "How horrid."

"No, no, it wasn't like that," she assured him. "I mean, I missed _you_ you, but I liked him too. Because on some level, he was still you." He still looked confused. "I'm not making any sense."

When she hid her face, Killian scolded himself. He wasn't helping. "Apologies, love. I'm just having trouble picturing a world where I am not my devilishly handsome self."

She laughed softly, then raised her head. "Oh, you were handsome, alright. Drove me to distraction."

"Is that so?"

"It didn't start out as a nightmare," she confided.

Killian ran his ran over her back. "I would hope spending time with some version of Killian Jones wasn't a nightmare, darling."

She leaned up and kissed him, humming at the faint taste of rum on his lips. She missed that. "Definitely not a nightmare."

"I'll bet I was quite enamored with such a beautiful lass."

"I couldn't tell at first. I didn't know how you felt."

"There is no world where I wouldn't love you," he swore fervently.

"I know." She stared at him for several long moments, trying to see if she could catalog the ways Dream Killian was different from Real Killian. They looked identical. Felt identical under her fingertips. The eyes held the most difference. Both blue, but this Killian's eyes held so much…more. She couldn't put her finger on it. It reminded her of how Dream Killian looked just before he stepped back into the street. She looked away, the image still fresh.

"Hey, it's okay. You can tell me anything."

"I loved him, you, the other you," she admitted. "Just like I love you. It was the same, yet…different. Almost like we got to start over."

Killian smiled. "Well, now I almost envy this other me," he replied. "It's quite a heady thing, falling in love with you."

Emma giggled. "That's funny, because you were jealous of yourself in the dream too."

"I said almost."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You keep telling yourself that, Captain."

"Now why would I be jealous of myself?"

Emma flushed. "I missed you. I missed us. I may have…done some things to ease the tension."

Now she had his attention. "Hmm, is that so? I certainly hope you had some help in this…easing of tension?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I would have to be a fool not to want you." Emma was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known; he wanted her the moment he laid eyes on her. He couldn't believe his good fortune when she actually invited him into her bed.

"You were not a fool, Captain Jones."

"Good." He sank his fingers into her hair, angling her head so he could kiss her. Emma mewled softly, reveling in the possessive way he held her. As much as she loved shy tender Killian, she missed the pirate captain who set her blood on fire.

Killian rolled them over, urging her arms over her head as he continued to kiss her. Emma arched under him, moaning as he nipped at the flesh of her soft lower lip. "Tell me you need this," he murmured, kissing along her jaw. _Tell me you need me._

"Hmm, yes, please," she gasped, biting her lip as his lips suckled her nipple through her borrowed shirt.

Killian threw the covers off them, grinning down at her lecherously. Emma shivered under her pirate captain's gaze. "Best conjure us some quiet," he said, voice dripping with sex. "I want to hear you scream for me."

Emma moaned softly, nodding hard. She summoned her power, thankful as she felt it crackle across her fingertips. A snap of her fingers placed them in a soundproof bubble, away from their son sleeping next door.

"Good girl." He pushed the hem of her shirt up, exposing her sex. Emma's breathing hitched as his fingers inched toward it; her legs fell open automatically. He chuckled. "Eager, are we? Did the other me not satisfy you?"

Emma bit her lip, trying to explain what she wanted. "He wasn't…you," she breathed. "I need you, Captain."

He bent down, inhaling the delicious scent of her sex. She glistened in the candlelight, wet and swollen. "Stay here." His cock bobbed against his stomach as he climbed from the bed; he curled his hand around it, pulling loosely, knowing she was watching. He stayed in her line of sight, moving to her vanity. There, they kept some of the items they found on their travels, trinkets they sometimes used to enhance their pleasure. They hadn't indulged since Emma gave birth; this was a golden opportunity.

"What are you doing?" she asked, unable to stop staring at him.

"You'll see." He selected the items he wanted and returned to the bed. "Give me your wrists." Emma did so, biting back a moan as he deftly tied a length of silk rope around them. She tugged on them; a corresponding tug centered on her clit. Killian tied her bound wrists to the bed frame, then kissed her, unable to resist the pull of her lips. Emma moaned and arched, excitement coiling in her belly.

"Make all the noise you want, Princess. No one will hear you," he growled. "You're all mine."

She moaned again, desperate to be his. She wanted to forget all about her dream; she wanted him to make her forget. She watched as he positioned himself between her legs, pushing them up and back, exposing her completely to the air. Emma shivered as cool air kissed her sex, just like in her dream.

"Hmm, so wet," he murmured, sliding his thumb over her slit. "You're practically begging for my cock, aren't you, Princess?"

She strained against the ropes, his touch maddening. Her nipples hurt, the linen rough on her sensitive skin. "Please, Captain. Please!"

"Patience." A crack rent the air; Emma jerked and cried out, pleasure blooming from where he'd struck her. Her clit throbbed with need; as if he could read her mind, Killian struck again, his rough hand smacking her sex. Emma instinctively drew her legs closer in anticipation of the blow. Her lover didn't disappoint her, the loud crack of flesh on flesh so welcome. She sobbed in pleasure, rocking her hips up, desperate for more.

Killian groaned at the sight of her, bound and desperate, silently begging for more. Gods, she was perfect. He eased back in the huge bed, bending over to taste her. Emma climaxed almost instantly, her body convulsing. Killian licked her through it, lapping at her copious arousal. She tasted so good, sweet; he couldn't help himself. He teased her clit with his teeth, his hand and forearm holding her legs back. "Did he taste you, Princess?"

"No," she breathed, her body coiling for another orgasm.

"This is mine," he growled, lightly fingering her hole. "Is that understood?"

"Yes!" she cried, wiggling her hips. A sharp smack of her lover's hand stopped her; Emma sobbed in frustration.

"Such a greedy girl," he observed, dipping his fingers just a bit deeper into her sex. "Do you want to come, Princess?"

"Yes, Captain."

He bent down, wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking hard. She bucked hard against his mouth; her scream of pleasure would no doubt have woken half the castle, but it was music to his ears. While he was certain he would love her in any incarnation, there was something about this—the pirate captain and the princess—that felt right. She was his and she would always be his.

Emma sagged into the mattress, her body buzzing from her intense climax. Her chest hurt from lack of air, but she still craved more. She wanted him to imprint himself on her body, fuck her until she forgot her own name. She tugged helplessly on the ropes, squirming as cool air blew gently over her abused sex. "Yes, yes, yes," she whimpered, almost mindless in her need.

Killian leaned over her, capturing one erect nipple between his lips, muffling his groan of pleasure as his erection glided against her hot cunt. Emma arched under him, crying out, a pulse of need going straight to her clit. "Killian, fuck!"

He smacked her hip hard. "Who am I, Princess?"

Her head swam for a moment, the pleasure making her dizzy. "Captain! Captain!"

"That's better." He rocked his hips firmly against hers, the tip of him teasing her opening. "You're gonna feel so good around me, lass," he growled in her ear. "So hot and wet for me already. Such a dirty girl you are."

She whined, bucking her hips up, desperate for more friction. This was what she craved, what no other man could give her. Her Killian knew her more intimately than anyone; he knew exactly what she needed. He knew it before she did, carefully introducing her to the pleasures of the flesh, helping her understand herself. She'd become shameless in her need, hungry for him, for all the things he made her feel. "Yours, Captain," she breathed. "All yours."

Killian groaned; she was his soulmate in every way, his perfect princess. "Say it again, Princess."

"Yours," she replied instantly. "I belong to you, Captain."

"Fuck yes." He kissed her deeply, angling his hips and sliding home. Emma arched and shuddered, her cry muffled by their hungry kisses. She was helpless to do anything but hold on as he rutted into her willing body, his girth stretching her exactly the way she needed. Killian hooked one leg over his shoulder, lowering his head to watch his cock disappear inside her tight sheath. "My Emma," he growled. "Mine. _Mine."_

Emma's climax took her by surprise, her body wound so tightly, his cock bottoming out with every sharp thrust of his hips. She sobbed in pleasure, riding out the high, her walls spasming around the thick cock within her. She felt her lover slow his hips, still hard, intentionally dragging out her pleasure. "Not through with you," he murmured in her ear, kissing the shell over and over. "Do you need more, my darling?"

She turned her head, meeting his lips in a sloppy kiss. "I want everything," she breathed.

"Fuck, I love you." He returned her kiss, bracing himself above her with his left arm, deftly unknotting the ropes with his right hand. He turned his lips to the reddened skin of her wrists, soothing the tender flesh. She moaned softly, still mindful of his cock inside her. His hips rocked gently into her, just enough to keep her needy and aroused. She didn't resist as he pulled her into his lap, her body humming pleasantly.

"Oh no, you don't," he muttered, angling her hips so he could slide back into her. "Do you like that, Princess? The way I fill you up?"

She nodded, almost drunk on pleasure. She ground lightly over him, lips seeking his. They made out lazily, Killian's hand sliding over her curves, thumb grazing her firm nipples. She was still nursing; he couldn't deny he enjoyed the changes to her body. Emma hummed, hips jerking slightly as he touched her. "More," she pleaded softly. "More."

Killian didn't hesitate, ducking his head to capture a nipple between his lips. He rolled and pinched the other with his fingers, loving the way she bucked against him. She was a ball of need, her body his instrument. Her full breasts leaked milk; he lapped at it greedily, holding her to him as they fell back into the bed. Emma took advantage, riding his gorgeous cock as he suckled her. She wasn't in a hurry, rising and falling steadily, not wanting this feeling to end.

"Fuck, I love the way you ride me, Princess," he murmured, watching her. "So fucking beautiful."

"You feel so good inside me," she breathed, sinking down as far as she could, needing every thick inch of him. "So deep, so fucking deep."

Killian groaned, her words making him crazy. He grabbed her ass, fondling and squeezing, silently encouraging her to move faster. She did as be bid, a needy moan tearing from her throat. Killian couldn't help himself; he spanked her, hard, over and over; Emma hissed in pleasure. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Come for me," he demanded, bucking up into her, sinking deeper. Balls slapped her ass, his hand slid between her stinging cheeks, seeking her rear entrance. "Come!"

His fingers stroking her hole were too much for her overstimulated body; she exploded, nails digging into her lover's flesh as she climaxed for the last time. He followed almost instantly, filling her with rope after rope of his seed.

Emma realized later that she must have passed out, because the next thing she remembered clearly was her husband tucking her back into bed. She hummed, still sleepy, but forced her eyes open. "Killian?"

"Hush, my darling," he murmured, brushing a kiss to her brow. "You're exhausted."

"Liam?"

"Asleep, last I checked."

She was so tired, but it was probably time to feed her son. "Could you check again? Please?"

He could deny her nothing. Killian padded into the nursery, allowing the moonlight to guide him. The baby was twitching a little, a sign that he would wake soon. Killian scooped him up and cradled his son to his chest. "It's alright, little one. Papa's got you."

Emma smiled tiredly as her boys entered. She pushed herself up and held out her arms, so she could take her son from his father. Liam was just starting to fuss in earnest as Killian handed him over. "What's the matter, darling?" Emma cooed. "Hungry?" She was still naked, so it was easy to bring the fussy baby to her chest. Liam latched on easily and Emma's smile widened. "We'll need to change him before we put him back down."

Killian climbed into bed beside his wife. "We could keep him here with us," he said quietly. "If you want." She'd dreamt of a world where he wasn't himself and their son was nowhere to be found. He would want to keep his loved ones close if he'd dreamt of such a thing.

"Thank you." She loved that he understood exactly what she needed, no explanations needed. She was getting better at talking about her emotions and moods, but in this, they were still in sync. "Love you."

"As I love you." He kissed her temple and scooted closer, wrapping his arm across her shoulders. Emma snuggled into him as best she could with Liam in her arms. Even now, details of her dream were fading, but she wasn't ready to let either of her boys go just yet. She didn't want another life, not when hers was already perfect.


End file.
